When We Stop Believing

 

As I sit to write this latest blog post, all is finally quiet in the Hughes house. Well, as quiet as is possible with four kids, two dogs, and two in-laws in a pear tree. It’s Christmas evening, so all the kids are busy with their new presents. The adults are slowly passing out from the exhaustion of getting ready for today. As parents, we spend far too much time worrying about making everything perfect even though perfection is an impossible concept to reach.

Christmas isn’t the only time, we as parents, do everything we can to give our children the best.  Maybe it’s driving them to the seemingly endless list of activities. Some of the them they ask us to take them to, while others we get them involved without any expressed interest on their part. We want to give them as many opportunities as possible to find their likes and dislikes. Other times, we try to protect our little ones from hurt and even disappointment.

As parents, we carry on traditions passed down from our parents, religion, or society. If you are reading this around your child, now might be the time to make sure they are not reading along with you.  Warning…Spoilers ahead! Some of those traditions involve taking on the duties of magical creatures like the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and ole Saint Nick. From the time we discover Santa and his friends aren’t “real”, the holidays seem to lose some of their magic. But when we have our first child, the holidays come with a greater importance.  We now get to be the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. No one ever tells you how to do so or what to do, but the magic seems to come back when we now can see it through the eyes of our children. We want to preserve their innocence and the feeling of joy we get from seeing their smiling faces as long as we possibly can. Time passes ever so quickly.

This week I experienced a loss of some of that joy.  A few days ago, I walked into my oldest daughter’s room, Jenna.  She was talking with her older and only brother, Evan. You know that gut feeling you get when your children suddenly get quiet and seem to be up to something?  Well, that happened right then.  Of course, they said they weren’t doing anything, but a parent knows when there is a disturbance in the Force. The next day, I found out what caused the disturbance.  They were talking through how there could not possibly a Santa Claus. My son used his new found middle school logic and maturity while Jenna used her personal skills to deduce that Mom always changes the subject when asked about Santa, the Tooth Fairy, etc. She also let me know that she knew the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real for a long time, since she was nine. She turns 11 in February 😊 While she was excited to help keep the secret and move the Elf (thank you for wanting to move the evil Elf!) for her younger sisters, I could see some of that innocence leave my son. Man, it did not feel good. We knew this would happen someday. Well, that and the hair growing on his upper lip and the deepening voice have been recent other clues. But it’s still a gut punch to realize your first born is no longer a little boy. 

The recent events caused me to reflect on what it means to believe in Santa and other traditions. It led me to think about how we don’t have to stop believing in childhood experiences as our own children get older or as we slowly turn gray. That the traditions we experienced and now pass onto all of our children are truly about hope. Hope for the a better tomorrow. Hope for their future and ours. It’s the same kind of hope that has kept educators going during tough times in the classroom and especially during the pandemic.  I’m not saying that as educators, we must believe in Santa or other fictional characters. What we need to continue believing in is the innocence of childhood, hope for their future and our role in creating smile generating learning experiences.